


Silent Skin

by Sodding_Malfoy (Leafyleaf)



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29638350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leafyleaf/pseuds/Sodding_Malfoy
Summary: Just because Danny is his soulmate doesn't mean Dash has to care about him. Right?Soulmate AU where if you write on your skin it comes up on theirs too.
Relationships: Dash Baxter/Danny Fenton
Comments: 13
Kudos: 115





	Silent Skin

Dash feinted left, but went right instead, confusing the Westmount Wailers just enough to pass the ball to Jay without an intercept. Jay passed it back as soon as they turned to tackle him, before disappearing under a pile of bodies and leaving the end zone free. The Wailers were never going to have posed a challenge, but he couldn’t hold back the smile when the crowd – small as it was – whooped over today’s third touchdown. He pumped his fists in the air in victory, revelling in the knowledge that tonight, he was unstoppable. Coach blew the whistle for a time-out. 

Dash looked up at Paulina where she was sitting with Star and Valerie, and she squealed when he took off his helmet to give her a wink. He jogged over to the stands. 

“That was amazing!” She praised, but Dash just grinned. He knew that she’d never expected anything less. 

The other team was getting frustrated, he knew, because being pitted against the Ravens just wasn’t fair, even if it wasn’t a serious match. For the Wailers, mostly all freshmen, this was less like practice and more just demoralisation. He’d been in that position, when he first started, but he still couldn’t bring it upon himself to feel sorry for them. Going against a Baxter was never something to be done lightly.

He pushed the hair back out of his face. “I think coach is about ready to call it a day. Meet me back here after I change?”

“You know it.” Paulina grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze.

He looked at her face, the wide trusting eyes and the familiar lips pulled up into a smile, caught between her teeth in a way that, this time last year, would’ve set him on fire. He didn't ever look away, but it didn’t matter; he could sense that someone else was there.

Fenton.

He could hear him at the back of the bleachers, arguing with his two loser friends about something or other and making Dash’s neck prickle under his gaze. Normally, he liked being watched. But nothing about Fenton was normal.

Dash pulled his girlfriend’s hand up to his face, kissing her knuckles to hide just how strongly he was gritting his teeth. He turned in the direction of the showers before he could do something stupid. 

What did Fenton think he was doing, following him around like a little lovesick puppy as though Dash should give him the time of day? It was stupid. He felt a prickle in the crook of his elbow from his latest mark, the obnoxious smiley face that had appeared during English class first period, and he growled. Just because they were soulmates didn’t mean they were ever going to get along.

***

Kwan punched his shoulder lightly. “Are you even listening, dude?”

“Hm?” Dash pulled his eyes away from where he’d been watching Manson and Foley, and smoothed his brow. 

“What’s up?”

“You’ve been out of it all day, are you alright?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” 

Kwan pursed his lips, still looking at him in concern, but ultimately decided to let it go.

When Dash glanced over at Manson and Foley again, they were looking right back at him. It gave him a jolt – surely they didn’t know, right? He’d made Fenton promise on pain of death that he’d never tell anyone about their soul bond. That kind of information could ruin both of their lives. 

But where was Fenton? He’d not shown up to classes all day, which wasn’t like him. Dash’s arms were bare for the first time in months, no good morning or witty remark that he’d grown so used to. Perhaps Fenton had finally got the message that Dash wasn’t going to respond.

Who cares though, right? He didn’t care about that idiot. Good riddance.

***

Paulina was at school before him, leaning back on the hood of her car as she picked at her nails, gazing out over the lot. Dash hung back, parking behind an old Ford rather than his usual spot next to hers. He couldn’t handle this today. The bell rang and he watched as her shoulders slumped, checking her phone again for a response to the messages he had been ignoring. His pocket buzzed as she sent what was probably another row of question marks, before she dropped her phone into her handbag and ran after Star, Mia, and Rebecca on the way up the stairs. He couldn’t tell if she was angry, worried, or disappointed, but he was too tense to really care. 

He looked around the lot for a familiar face, but wasn’t surprised when he didn’t find it. Fenton hadn’t been in school for nearly a week now, and nobody would tell him anything. He’d asked Kwan to keep a look out, saying he owed the nerd a waling, but there hadn’t even been a hint of his bony arms or black hair since he saw him at practice last Friday. He’d overheard Manson and Foley whispering about something, and they’d looked worried, but they always turned and walked the other way before he was close enough to threaten the information out of them. 

He couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong. There was a gnawing in his gut that no amount of food could fix, and his arm flared and burned where the first black spider-crawl of letters had come onto his skin almost two years ago, just before his sixteenth birthday. 

Dash scrabbled around in the glove compartment until he found a pen, and soon he had it hovering over the skin on his wrist. He’d not written anything at all since he’d found out exactly who was getting his messages, but he couldn’t find a way to justify not doing it today.

_Where are you??_ asked his shaky fingers. He sat there for a few minutes, just staring at his wrist and waiting for an answer that never came. He knew there was no way Fenton didn't see it. Not unless he couldn’t. Not unless something had happened.

He groaned and dragged a hand down his face, wondering what the hell was wrong with himself. He was supposed to be over all of this already, committed to settling down with Paulina in a semi-detached house with a couple of beautiful blonde kids, hoping that her soul marks never developed and he could pretend the same about his. She’d never asked, because she trusted him to tell her if it ever happened. She was probably holding out hope that his bond was with her. He wasn’t in a rush to prove her wrong. 

He released the lip he’d been gnawing at and pulled away, ignoring the one-way system to just get out of there as soon as possible. Sitting through Lancer’s class was the last thing he wanted to do today. He’d just have spent it staring at the empty chair.

He didn’t know where he was going until he got there, shaking hands gripping the wheel so tightly his fingertips were going numb. He stared up at the ugly hodgepodge of metal that was the FentonWorks building. The smart thing for him to do would be to just go home and forget about it, but he’d never considered himself particularly smart. Maybe he’d sustained some sort of football-related head injury. That’s certainly a better explanation than the alternative. 

Fenton’s car was out front, but his parents’ juiced up RV was thankfully absent. Those two goons were probably enough to push him over the edge right now.

He pushed open the car door, hating how weak his arms suddenly felt, and balled his hands into fists. How dare anyone make him feel this way? Where did the dweeb get off making him worry? Ignoring him? 

Before he could convince himself not to, he was braying on the front door. When he heard the click of the lock turning, he reared back, ready to unleash all of his fury onto the unsuspecting boy on the other side. When the door finally swung open a few inches though, the words stuck in his throat and he blinked a few times, hands stilling.

“Wow, Fenton, you look like shit.”

Danny sighed. “Alright.” 

He moved to close the door, but Dash put his foot in the way, too shocked to wince as it nearly crushed his toes. Fenton’s face was speckled purple, a huge shiner on one eye and bruising that Dash knew usually came with a broken jaw. Above the neckline of his t-shirt, his chest was stained a yellow-green.

“What do you want, Dash?” Fenton asked quietly, sounding wearier than Dash had ever heard.

He swallowed. “You weren’t at school...”

“Obviously.”

“What happened?”

He made no move to answer, just looking at the bully blankly as though waiting for him to just give up and leave already. After the longest few minutes ever, he sighed and stepped back, rolling his eyes. “If you’re not going away, you may as well come in.” 

Dash stepped forward dumbly and closed the door behind himself. “What happened?” he repeated.

“Just forget it, alright?” Fenton looked off to the side and ran one hand through his hair, refusing to make eye contact.

Dash’s hands became fists again, shaking with the rage. “Was it someone off the team? Was it Mike? I’ll fucking kill him this time, I swear I will.”

“What?” Danny looked up in alarm. “No, it’s no one you know.”

“Give me a name, Fenton, I mean it. I’m not fucking around.” Dash knew he was acting irrationally, but he couldn’t stop the feeling bubbling through his veins. 

Fenton was staring at him now, eyes wide. His mouth opened and closed a few times, as though he couldn’t decide which lie was best to say. “It was an accident.”  
He growled, turning and punching the wall, barely feeling the pain as his bones crunched. 

“Dash – ”

“If anyone lays a hand on you again,” he snarled. “They’re going to regret it.”

He was whispering now. “I just fell. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Dash shook his head. He’d been in enough fights to know what the aftermath looked like. “Fenton, come on...” 

“It’s Danny,” he replied. “If you’re coming over to my house to check on me, you can at least call me by my name.”

Dash nodded hesitantly. He supposed that did make sense. “Alright. Danny.” He brought his hands up to cover his face with a deep sigh. “What am I doing?”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. I never know with you.” He reached out and took Dash’s hand in his, the one with bright red cracked knuckles, and led him into the kitchen. “Sit down, okay? You need ice on that.”

“Yeah,” said Dash weakly, noticing for the first time that it really was starting to sting.

Danny – and it was still too weird to think of him as Danny – brought him a bag of frozen veg and laid it over his hand.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, both just looking down at the table. Something had shifted today, something huge, and neither of them wanted to address it. 

“Are you coming back to school tomorrow, Danny?”

He smiled. “Yeah, I think I will.”

***

Lancer was droning on and on, probably about something he should have been paying attention to, but he couldn’t. He was watching the steady rise and fall of a certain boy’s back as he breathed, a reassurance that he was really there and really safe. He tore off a chunk of his eraser and threw it, watching as it bounced off the back of his neck. Without turning around, Danny put up his middle finger. 

Giving up on scribbling on the margins of his page, Dash pushed up his letterman jacket and turned his pen to the inside of his arm, a place that was easy for him to hide but people would surely see on Danny.

_Hey_ he wrote. 

Danny looked down, and Dash could see his cheeks redden. 

_Hey :)_

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I'm British, so I have no idea how your schools or football works.


End file.
